Departure

Fudge made a special visit to see Sirius Black and had his photo taken with him.

This die-hard supporter of the "Dark Lord," the demon who had blown twelve people to pieces on a public street, was undoubtedly a subject worthy of attention.

He was also a man worth publicizing.

This was a propaganda strategy that had been finalized long before he arrived.

After the photo was taken, Fudge prepared to leave, but Sirius asked him if he could keep the Daily Prophet.

"I want to do the crossword puzzle in it."

He pointed to the newspaper and said to Fudge.

Fudge signaled for the reporter behind him to capture the scene.

"Of course, Mr. Black."

Fudge appeared very friendly and magnanimous toward this descendant of a pure-blood family.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there is nothing left here worth seeing. Let's head back."

Fudge took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He led his entourage out of the fortress.

Arriving on the beach and looking at the setting sun, Fudge let out a sigh of relief.

Another task completed; he could finally go home.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let us take one last photo here. Look at this sunset, how beautiful it is!"

He spread his arms wide as he spoke, and the accompanying reporters naturally had no objections.

"Very well, Minister."

They stood beside Fudge, and as a reporter signaled for them to look at the lens, the photo was taken.

In the picture, Fudge was smiling broadly, while Azkaban behind him remained as grim as ever.

After the photo was taken, Fudge called over a few Aurors to offer them encouragement and a briefing.

He did not like this place one bit.

Even without the Dementors, it was difficult for him to keep a smile on his face.

Only after leaving the fortress did Fudge feel his entire body relax.

I will never come back to this godforsaken place again.

Fudge swore to himself.

Just as everyone was in high spirits, they failed to notice a tiny golden beetle crawl out from the dilapidated, crumbling fortress and silently slip onto the boat.

It was Dewey.

Compared to the vessel that had transported the Death Eaters here last time, this boat appeared quite luxurious.

It had two small decks and resembled an enlarged yacht, complete with a dedicated café and lounge, though it was lit by candles rather than electric lights.

When Dewey flew inside, the candles were singing.

Singing—literally singing, their mouths wide open in pure joy.

Dewey hid quietly in a corner.

This place looked like a bedroom.

A short while later, Dewey heard the sound of Fudge's booming voice approaching from a distance.

He was walking toward this room.

As these people boarded the ship, someone tapped the side of the boat with a wand, and it began to move on its own.

"Ugh, Azkaban really is an uncomfortable place."

Fudge was speaking to someone; Dewey heard the sound of chairs being pulled out, followed by the sound of two people sitting down.

Dewey saw two pairs of legs.

"Would you like anything? Tea? Coffee?"

The Minister for Magic asked, and the person opposite him replied, "No, thank you. Water will do."

"Very well."

The Minister for Magic's hands did not move, yet the sound of water being poured followed.

From Dewey's perspective, he could only see the legs of the two men.

Dewey's nerves were taut, for he knew he was still in an extremely dangerous position; he did not know when the Aurors in the prison would discover he was missing.

He also did not know when he might be discovered by these people.

The Minister for Magic and the person opposite him continued to talk.

However, this time, their topic had shifted to Dumbledore.

They mentioned Dumbledore's name.

Fudge looked somewhat distressed.

"My owl—that's right, the owl I sent to Hogwarts—never gets a reply."

He sounded rather dissatisfied with Dumbledore.

Complaints poured from his mouth in an endless stream.

The person sitting across from him remained silent; judging by the sound, he picked up a teacup and took a sip.

He did not want to get involved in the messy business between the Minister and Dumbledore.

He was merely a listener.

Dewey was lost in his own wild thoughts.

He had to keep his mind running at all times.

He had to remember that he was a human, to combat the side effects of being an Animagus.

I must keep my thoughts active, so who is he?

A man who keeps writing letters to Dumbledore, a cowardly Minister—he is Fudge.

Fudge, this man must be Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

How many years have I been locked up in Azkaban?

Fudge is in office, and Harry Potter has started school.

What year is he in?

Wait, Sirius Black hasn't broken out yet, which means Harry Potter hasn't reached his third year.

Is it first year, or second year?

Dewey's brain stormed, racing at high speed.

Fudge continued to talk to the person before him about many things, and through the conversation, Dewey discovered that this Minister for Magic was practically a fool.

He kept complaining about Dumbledore to his subordinate, and even when the subordinate only occasionally grunted in response, Fudge didn't seem to think anything was wrong.

"I will not ask Dumbledore for anything ever again."

He finally swore viciously.

Dewey didn't know how much time had passed until the ship suddenly jolted.

This was a sign that they were docking.

The door was suddenly thrown open, letting in a gust of cold wind that scattered the steam from the hot water.

An Auror—well, an Auror Dewey was very familiar with—rushed in from outside.

"Minister," Dewey recognized the Auror's trousers; they were a pair of light blue striped pants that hadn't been washed in a long time and were stained with grease, "a prisoner is missing."

"What?"

Fudge stood up abruptly; in his surprise, he didn't steady the chair, knocking it over.

Just as Dewey thought the chair would fall, its four legs bent slightly, and it stood back up, grumbling.

Is this magic?

Dewey thought, but Fudge paid no attention to this, taking a deep breath and trying to make himself look steady and calm.

"What happened? I mean, who escaped?"

"Dewey Jones, a Death Eater."

The Auror said quickly.

"Dewey Jones?"

Fudge licked his lips and said, "Terrible news, isn't it? Terrible news."

He paced back and forth, looking extremely agitated and uneasy.

Dewey saw that his footsteps were heavy, making loud sounds on the floor.

He walked up to Walker and asked again, holding onto a glimmer of hope: "Are you sure he escaped, Walker?

Not missing for some other reason, but escaped? Not dead, not hiding somewhere you didn't look?

Have you searched the entire island?

The Dementors—have the Dementors gone to scout as well?

Are you sure he really escaped, and didn't just die?"

Dewey could see that Fudge was in deep denial about someone escaping from Azkaban.

He refused to believe that anyone could break out of Azkaban.

In all these centuries, such a thing had never happened.

"Yes, Minister."

Walker said.

Dewey looked at the applewood wand.

So his name is Walker.

Dewey thought to himself.

Walker said with some urgency, "Please come with us. We must thoroughly search this ship to ensure Dewey is not here to harm you. We have already contacted the Aurors, and they will be arriving from the Ministry of Magic shortly. The ship has already docked."

"Fine, fine. I need to write to Dumbledore. This is all simply preposterous. I need Dumbledore's help," Fudge said.

He was helped out by Walker, and the aide followed them out. Dewey carefully stepped out from the shadows and flew toward the doorway.

Outside, it was utter chaos.

Although Dewey was not as famous as Bellatrix, Sirius Black, or Antonin Dolohov, he was still a Death Eater with heavy sins to his name. More importantly, Dewey was the first person in centuries—at least the first known person—to escape from prison. This was so terrifying that Fudge could not bring himself to believe it.

The Hit Wizards boarded the ship, and Dewey prepared to fight to the death at any moment. He simulated the battle in his mind: if he could block one spell with a Shield Charm, he could Apparate and leave this place. Animagi were not invincible; he remembered that Lupin had a way to force an Animagus to reveal their true form.

However, Dewey realized he had clearly overestimated this bunch of buffoons. Even the Hit Wizards had not considered the possibility of an Animagus. They searched the ship in a hurry before escorting the Minister and the reporters away.

Dewey flew off the ship and vanished from the spot, not even knowing where he was.

Half a day later.

Hogwarts looked like it had turned into a zoo.

Even Professor McGonagall, who had been resting at home, was astonished by the sight. She should have been at home, but seeing countless owls flying toward Hogwarts, she assumed something major had happened. She hurried to the school, where she saw many curious staff members observing the owls in the sky.

With school out for the holidays, there were far fewer troublemakers around. Especially those two Weasley darlings. Without them, Mr. Filch had a much easier time.

Entering the Headmaster's office, Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to ask, "Headmaster, what major event has occurred at Hogwarts?"

The giant Hagrid saw Professor McGonagall and quickly greeted her. Professor McGonagall nodded and said, "It is truly good to see you, Hagrid."

Hagrid took a portion of the owls away. These owls had traveled a long distance, and some required careful tending before they could fly back.

With only McGonagall and Dumbledore left in the office, Dumbledore waved his wand and invited Professor McGonagall to sit.

Listening to Professor McGonagall's inquiry, Dumbledore said airily, "Nothing major," he said while reading a letter, "just a prisoner who has escaped from Azkaban."